


My Boyfriend's Courfeyrac & Combeferre

by qeedivertido



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other couples mentioned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-08 03:37:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/756574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qeedivertido/pseuds/qeedivertido
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire and Enjolras have been dating for a while, but Grantaire has yet to meet Enjolras' best friends. Enjolras hopes they like Grantaire. Grantaire, maybe, possibly, <i>secretly</i> hopes Enjolras won't leave him if they don't. But as it happens, Enjolra's friends are a group that desperately needs Grantaire's help, though noone knows it yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Enjolras' panicking

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Les Mis fic and I have no idea what I'm doing O.o
> 
> That being said. You should probably know that in this Enjolras is not completely clueless (only a little) and he and Grantaire started their relationship fairly soon after meeting. Also, Les Amis are not one whole group. It's divided in Enjolras' friends (Courfeyrac, Combeferre, Joly, Bossuet and Marius) and Grantaire's friends (Éponine, Cosette, Bahorel, Feuilly and Jehan). 
> 
> ((Actually, they kind of share Marius))

"You'll like them. I'm sure..." Though Enjolras doesn't look sure. Far from it, really. "Maybe just Courfeyrac. I'm sure you'll like Courf...maybe...oh god, and what if you don't like Combeferre? He's my best friend ever, well so is Courfeyrac. But 'Ferre has been my friend the longest; but you two are so different, oh god, Grantaire, why don't you like Combeferre?!"

Enjolras is sounding increasingly more panicked and Grantaire definitely shouldn't be so amused (but he is, and he sees Éponine's shoulders shaking behind her big, scary book so he knows he's not alone).

"Calm down, Apollo." Enjolras manages to frown at the nickname without droping the panicked look on his face. "You do realise I still haven't met him, right? Any of them." He hopes he's hiding the hurt and the fear from his voice. Because Enjolras has met all of his friends while he only knows Bossuet (and only because Cosette was fusing over him when he broke his ankle; he still doesn't know how Cosette carried him through seven flights of stairs to her apartment, but now's not the time to think of that, he has a panicking boyfriend to calm).

Anyway, he knows he's probably not hiding anything because he can practically feel Éponine's _look_ through the pages, but Enjolras panic has led him to introduce his forehead to the table, rather forcibly as a matter of fact, so he probably notices nothing.

Éponine puts down her book (' _Introduction to Fluid Dynamics_ ' so she's probably bored to death, Grantaire knows he would be, but then again...). Her face is carefully neutral but Grantaire can guess the amusement behind those brown eyes, he's known her that long (and yet he introduced to Enjolras even before they were properly dating, he didn't keep her locked up god knows where, like _some_ people do with their best friends).

"I still can't believe you don't know Courfeyrac." Éponine says "He knows _everyone_."

Enjolras scoffs and Grantaire thinks he can hear him mutter 'Or so he says' to the table. But he ignores him in favour of...

"Wait, _you_ know him?" Now that's just wrong and unfair, and how come he didn't know?

"He's a friend of Marius." She does look kind of sorry, so he forgives her; even if it's now obvious Cosette knows him as well, and noone thought of telling him. "I think they roomed together in freshman year." She pauses, probably for effect, while a smirk slowly takes over her face. "He also flirted with me at Marius' birthday party." (Now Enjolras just mutters 'Figures') "You know, the one you were too _occupied_ to attend."

Enjolras' head snaps up at the second part of Éponine's statement; but Grantaire is too busy laughing at the first part to even notice.

"He didn't know?"

Éponine's smirk grows bigger. "No. Though, to his credit, he did catch up rather quickly, what with the death glare Cosette was throwing at him. Marius tried too look mad too but he only succeeded in looking like a slightly crossed puppy." Grantaire laughes again, this time louder, and wishes with all he has he could've been there. Though, in all honesty, he has no problem imagining it (but he can't imagine Caurfeyrac's reaction because he hasn't met him, and that makes his laughter die away).

"Wait, wait, wait!" Enjolras' panicked look is still there, but has been slightly overtaken by a pronounced frown "What, pray tell, were you _too occupied_ doing?" Those two words are said with such disgust that Éponine and Grantaire can't help but laugh.

"Don't worry, my dearest Apollo, it was before we met."

Enjolras still doesn't seem placated, and is about to say something (probably along the lines of 'We could've met at that party if you hadn't been too occupied with some other guy'), but Éponine cuts in before he can. "If it makes you feel better, R, Courfeyrac has Bahorel's stamp of approval. And Cosette has forgave him...I think."

"Bahorel gives his approval way too easily." He says with a small smile that doesn't quite light up his eyes _And it's not really Courfeyrac the one that worries me_. "I'll relax when Feuilly approves."

Éponine chuckles while Enjolras groans and smacks his head agaisnt the table once more. Feuilly still doesn't completely approve of him.


	2. Feuilly's opinion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feuilly and Bahorel talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look! I'm continuing this. I'm still the same crappy writer but the comments on the first chapter actually made me incredibly happy, so, I hope you enjoyed this second chapter.

Enjolras is too perfect. With his blond curly hair, his huge blue eyes, his massive brains, his shit-load of money (fine, his parent's money, and they don't talk, but it still counts) and his perfect GPA. He's too perfect, which must obviously mean there's something wrong with him. And that's why Feuilly doesn't trust him.

Now, don't get him wrong. He likes the fact that he can hold a decent conversation, which is a nice change of pace from the nonsensical ones he's used to having with his friends (especially with Grantaire and Bahorel, who he sometimes think shouldn't be allowed to talk to each other). What he really doesn't trust Enjolras with, is Grantaire.

\--

When Feuilly walks in the house he shares with Bahorel, he's not exactly shocked to be on the receiving end of a thrown pillow.

"Have I done something to upset you, Bahorel?" he says as he picks the pillow from the floor and drops it on his roommate sprawled on the couch.

"You little twat."

"Lovely. I ask again: have I done something to upset you, Bahorel?"

"I talked to R. He mentioned you being a little twat with Enjolras. His words."

Feuilly just scoffs and goes to the kitchen to make himself some tea.

"I highly doubt those were his exact words," he shouts once the kettle is on.

"You don't have to shout, I'm right here," says Bahorel in his ear. Feuilly would be embarrassed to admit he was startled, alas he was, so what's the point of denying it? He, however, didn't blush. At all.

He turns around to a serious looking Bahorel, which is, in itself, a strange occurrence. However, he takes in all in stride and is about to offer him some tea as well when Bahorel interrupts him.

"Are you in love with Grantaire?"

Feuilly's eyes go comically wide, and if things were different, Bahorel would laugh.

"What?"

"Let me rephrase. Are you in love with Grantaire, still?"

At this, Feuilly can do nothing but laugh. _Loud._

"Are you this drunk already?"

Bahorel scowls, but Feuilly can't see from the tears of laughter forming of his eyes.

"I'm serious, you jackass," he waits for Feuilly to stop laughing, which he eventually does. "I wouldn't judge you if you were. I mean, Grantaire's hot - not my type, mind you - but hot."

And Feuilly's laugh starts again, louder this time.

"Oh my god, Bahorel" he manages to say while trying to gasp for air, "I was never in love with Grantaire!"

"Then why do you treat Enjolras like crap?"

That little question makes him sober up.

"I'm not in love with Grantaire. I do love him, he's my best and oldest friend, but I'm not in love with Grantaire."

Bahorel seems to heave a relieved sigh. He waits for Feuilly to answer his actual question, but the red-headed boy just makes his tea and moves to the living room.

Bahorel goes to sit with him, and waits with uncharacteristic patience.

Feuilly finally gives in with a world-weary sigh.

"I don't treat Enjolras like crap; I'm just slightly cold to him." Bahorel tries to interrupt (Feuilly thinks he was going to say 'Same difference' but he could be wrong), but he doesn't let him. He was getting ready for this question. He didn't know when it would come, or who would ask it (he did hope it wouldn't come to the point where Grantaire himself would ask) but he had sorted out his feelings just to be properly articulate them when the time came. "It's just. Grantaire is not as strong as he wants us to believe. I know you know this," he says before Bahorel tries to interrupt again, "but I'm serious. He's never been as good as he is now. I mean, eighteen months sober," (Grantaire would hate that, 'A year and a half' he'd say), " _eighteen months!_ That's an awful lot. I should know," he misses Bahorel's flinch, "And sometimes I just feel Enjolras could mess with that."

Bahorel waits but Feuilly is done talking. His hands have started shaking but neither of them cares about some tea on the carpet right now.

"Enjolras had nothing to do with Grantaire getting sober;" Bahorel says, slowly taking the tea cup from Feuilly's hands; "that was before they met."

"I know! But -"

Bahorel lifts his hands and Feuilly obediently shuts up.

"And I'm not going to pretend this sobriety thing couldn't go to hell, damn, this is not even the first time he tries. But you cannot possibly tell me you don't realise how good they are together? How good Enjolras actually is to R."

"I know, Bahorel, I know."

Bahorel puts a hand in his hair and ruffles it a bit, which is something Feuilly usually hates but now makes him feel kind of better. Kind of.

"Did Grantaire really say I was a twat to Enjolras?"

"Technically, those were Éponine's words; R defended you."

"That actually makes me feel worse, thank you."

Bahorel laugh and ruffles his hair a bit more.

"You're adorable," he says ignoring the glare he receives. "Don't worry, though, You're R's best and oldest fiend, he knows you take time to warm up to people, but if you do then it means they're worth it."

Feuilly stays in the couch thinking while Bahorel turns on the TV and drinks Feuilly's tea. Suddenly he remembers something Bahorel said what seems like hours ago.

"You said Grantaire's not your type, right?"

Bahorel hums in agreement without taking his eyes of the TV.

"I just mean...who is? Your type. Who's your type?"

A huge grins takes over Bahorel face while he says, with his eyes still trained forward "Gingers."

Feuilly blushes to the tip of his ears and flees to his room. Unfortunately, from there he can still hear Bahorel's booming laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I know. I'm sorry. BUT THANKS FOR READING IT!!

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, this is just the short beggining, and who knows if I'll continue it, but here it is, nonetheless...
> 
> Sorry...but I do hope you liked it :)


End file.
